


Tangled Web

by lightinthehall



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Bondage, M/M, Possessive Jared, Serial Killers, bottom!Jensen, boyfriend kink, pretty!Jensen, prey!Jensen, serial killer!Jared, were-spider!Jared (no transformations)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 00:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3548897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightinthehall/pseuds/lightinthehall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[ Written for the prompt ] "Jared is a were spider. He is a serial killer who seeks out the prettiest prey, gives them the fuck of their life and then traps and kills them. It's compulsive and he needs to hunt and kill. Until he meets Jensen, all he wants to do is take him home and have hardcore, nasty, illegal sex with him. But if he does that he will want to kill him afterwards. Cue Jared fighting his animal attraction, and compulsion to mate with Jensen. Maybe in the end he finally does take Jensen and is able to resist his animal compulsion post orgasm."<br/>originally posted here for the <a href="http://spn-masquerade.livejournal.com/4214.html?thread=683638#t683638">spn_masquerade</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Tangled Web

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on LJ [here.](http://souslelys.livejournal.com/42637.html)

The body folds into the box remarkably easily – still warm and loose-limbed and lifeless. He’s already forgotten the man’s face; couldn’t distinguish this mark from countless others, can’t recall the colour of his eyes, or the quality of his smile. They’ve begun to blur together, his fleeting mates – all of them young and pretty and dead.

Smirking, he lazily walks two fingers along the curve of the man’s spine, up to his broken neck. _Such an easy target,_ he muses.

Fresh satisfaction filters deep into his muscles, settling into his bones and easing the persistent itch that had plagued his mind. Jared’s not sure what he enjoys more, the hunt or the endorphin-filled aftermath.

The service down the hall will be finishing up soon, and Jared will be needed in the foyer. He moves efficiently, two arms working as quickly as eight, as he arranges the rest of the body over old Mrs. Warner’s corpse, pressing them carefully together. Luckily, she was a small lady, leaving plenty of room in the coffin for another.

The viewings are over, and once the casket is sealed, it’s only left for Mrs. Warner’s family to bury her. There will be beautiful words, black gowns, and tears as they put her deep, deep into the ground along with Jared’s latest secret.

In a few days, news stations will catch on to a young man’s mysterious disappearance, police and their dogs and search parties will follow useless leads: the victim’s favoured locales, even surrounding towns, but not a single one will think to search a fresh, newly mourned grave. People will give up, they will forget. Then Jared will be free to strike again.

The casket closes with a final, resounding _thud_ , and Jared sees Jensen for the first time.

0-0-0

There are tears in the most captivating green eyes that Jared has ever seen, bright and sad in the sunlit room. He’s used to pretty faces, but this man is stunning, beauty beyond any of the marks Jared’s ever encountered – long-lashed with pouting, pink lips and a trim body wrapped up in a fitted black suit and tie.

A mourner, then.

The man’s dark-blond hair is styled neatly, and all Jared wants is to run his hands through the gelled strands, rub his scent into his skin and make a blushing, dirty mess of him.

The man is tugging at the knot of his tie, throat working as short, gasping sobs shudder through him, trying and failing to compose himself. So wrapped up in his anguish, he doesn’t notice Jared’s presence until a moment later, startling himself enough to jump back, shocked out of his weeping.

“Sorry – I’m sorry, I thought this room was empty,” the man says, clearing his throat, thumbs wiping away tear tracks as discretely as possible. Jared follows the movement with keen eyes. Vulnerability rolls off the man in waves, and his senses start to reawaken, pushing aside the clinging lull of satisfaction. “Sorry to disturb you.” With another sniffle, the man heads for the door as if he still has a choice, as if he hasn’t just stumbled into Jared’s web.

“Wait,” Jared says, moving forward to stop him at the door, and picking up the loose ends of the tie hanging around the man’s open collar. “Your tie…”

Their sudden proximity causes reddened-eyes to glance upwards in panic, the man realizing just how _big_ Jared is.

Jared’s taller than most, shoulders wide and intimidating, and there’s obvious strength in the bulk of his arms. But the size of him is offset by the friendliness in his face, and the soft curve of his chin-length hair. He casts the first thread and smiles, knowing how it hides the predatory slant of his eyes.

The beautiful man relaxes, caught in Jared’s smile. He’s easy to read, with his big eyes and flashing billboard expressions. Jared’s gaze is hungry, taking in the charming spread of light freckles across flushed cheeks.

 _Shiny,_ his instincts scream, greedy and magpie-like. _Take_. He has to grip his control tight, reel it in close like some snapping dog. The muscles in his jaw flicker as his deft fingers quickly loop the tie into a knot. One flare of instinct springs free and the fabric _accidentally_ pulls too tight, causing air to puff helplessly over soft lips. As good as a tease. Jared immediately mutters insincere apologies before loosening the tie comfortably around the man’s neck.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jared says, putting on his most empathetic face, casting the second thread. “My name’s Jared, I’m an employee here.”

“Jensen,” the man replies quietly, still wide-eyed and pale from crying. He’s fiddling with his tie again, looking dazed. “Thank you.”

“Are you with the Ackles family, or the Warners?”

“Ackles,” Jensen says, clearing his throat again, voice rough as sandpaper. “My father.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jared says again, low and so soothing Jensen unconsciously sways forward. He boldly places a consoling hand on Jensen’s shoulder, squeezing briefly. The skin of Jared’s palm sparks, sharp awareness heightening his sense as he marvels in the intensity of the connection, even through the layers of clothing. Liquid lust scorches through his veins, curling through his mind and fuelling the need for release – for _la petite mort_ in every meaning of the phrase.

It would be so easy to kick the door shut, to trap Jensen against the wall, to fuck him until he’s wrung every moan of pleasure from those pretty lips. He wants to see that beautiful body writhe and arch, every inch of freckled skin at his mercy.

What’s more, he wants Jensen to prostrate his soul before him, to give himself up in unerring totality – something Jared’s never wanted, nor needed before. It’s confusing, this new desire to hold back and _wait_. The more familiar part of himself wants to own Jensen’s final joy, then squeeze the life from him before the last of pleasant tremors have travelled through his limbs.

His father’s conveniently open casket is only a few doors away, after all.

Jensen must have some semblance of self-preservation, balking under the growing malevolence in the room and finally moving away, shaking his head out of its trance.

“I should get back,” he says, glancing at Jared nervously. There’s timid interest in those striking green eyes - and fear - but there’s no seduction. Only a sweet, undeniably innocent light shining back at him.

How cute. His boy had been raised on childhood dreams and love, with a big, affectionate family that believes in polite gentlemen and proper ladies. The opposite of every warm body Jared’s tumbled into his bed.

A dead man’s sweat is dry on Jared’s skin, body broken and forgotten just a few feet away. He couldn’t care less; not with this new, fascinating creature right in front of him.

He only smiles as Jensen slips out the door, and stumbles away.

0-0-0

It’s easy to find Jensen’s contact information amongst the funeral home’s family files and invoices. Jared decides to be kind, granting his new boy a few weeks to grieve over his father’s death. When he does call, the phone only rings twice before Jensen’s polite voice rolls smooth as whiskey over the line. Jared grins, slow, ends of it reaching ear-to-ear. He asks a few questions about the detailing on the father’s tombstone – ‘just to be thorough.’ They get to talking.

 _Yeah,_ Jensen says, _Coffee sounds good_.

0-0-0

His _boy_ is 25, four years older than Jared’s ID claims to be, a fact he passes off as ‘good genes’ when Jensen shoots him disbelieving looks. They’re sitting across from each other in the café, and Jensen’s fiddling with the plastic lid on his cup as he talks about graduating from Texas State University, about their physical therapy program and the practice he just joined. He rambles and apologizes for it, sending Jared shy, pleased smiles whenever Jared laughs at the right moment, or says the right thing.

“My dad always wanted me to be an actor like him, and I did try some modelling,” Jensen says, rubbing the back of his neck. They’ve been talking for hours, and the baristas are starting to side-eye their table, eager for the moment they can swoop in with their cleaning cloths. It’s actually _quaint_ , this mundane get-to-know-you conversation. Rather different from the filthy grind of hips against dirty nightclub walls that Jared’s used to. “I just- I don’t know. I never wanted to disappoint him by doing something different, but given the circumstances…” He trails off, lifting his eyes from the small café table to glance at Jared meaningfully.

“You like your privacy,” Jared finishes for him. “I can understand that.”

Jensen nods, smiling gratefully before taking another drink of his coffee. “He never knew about the – the guys.” Jared’s eyebrow arches, and a hot pulse of possessiveness ricochets through him. How much has his boy done, how far has he gone? “I – I never told him. When Dad was still around… I don’t think I could’ve done _this_ , you know?”

Jared‘s lips curve upwards. How kind of Daddy Ackles to clock out just in time for Jared to discover his son. Jared tracks the flash of tongue that sweeps across pink lips. Jensen is an utter _temptation_. With his looks, with those expressive green eyes, he could have easily made it as an actor or a model. He could have left for California and never looked back. He could have escaped the fate Jared has planned for him.

Jared tilts his head, letting his bangs fall into his eyes as he charmingly smiles at Jensen. “I’m glad you gave me a chance.”

Jensen beams at him. He must have kept that secret from his family for a long time. That’s fine with Jared. Let Jensen reveal the pieces of himself nobody else gets to see. More for him to own, more for him to hoard.

“What about you? How’d a happy guy like you get wrapped up in the funeral business?”

“Oh, you know – family stuff,” Jared says vaguely, with a sheepish shrug. He had learned early on that he needed a safe place for the bodies he’s accumulated over the years. Handlers of the dead: funeral workers, morgue assistants, coffin-makers – nobody gives them a second thought, nobody thinks to question those who already deal with death so frequently. “Been in the business for years.”

“Family business,” Jensen smiles, nodding with approval. “I can respect that.”

He almost laughs. Jared thinks of his mother, how she’d strangled his father with her own hands a few months before Jared was born. He’s not sure how she’d held out for so long; his kind aren’t inclined to long-term relationships. _Some prey are meant to be savoured_ , she’d told him.

She’d taught him the art of their nature, the thrill of it, but convenience has been the main factor amongst Jared’s hook-ups. After all, why should he expend effort when there are those so eager to be caught by him?

Jensen though - Jared could tell from the beginning that this one would take time. His achingly pretty boy isn’t going to fall into his bed after a single cup of coffee. Not the way Jared wants him – not the way he’s compelled to tie him up and _own_ him: heart, body and soul.

 _Some are meant to be savoured_.

Jared watches with amusement as Jensen stares into his cup and frowns, tilting it sideways. He’s practically _pouting_.

He wonders about Jensen’s coffee addiction, wonders if he’s just as adorable caffeine-free and disoriented in the morning. It may be worth seeing, just once.

“Can I buy you another?”

0-0-0

A second coffee becomes dinner the next evening, and Jared gets the first taste of his boy.

Embarrassingly enough, he’s walked Jensen to his door like the sappy date he’s pretending to be. Jensen seems to appreciate it though – the way he’s leaning into Jared, bashfully looking up at him with a flutter of long eyelashes.

Jensen is asking to be taken so, so sweetly - has been testing the reluctant grip Jared has on his self-control all evening.

They’re nose-to-nose, Jensen’s gaze firmly fixed on Jared’s lips. He hovers an inch away, his control fractioning away with every breath they share. There’s a twinge in the back of his head as he finally closes the distance between them, unable to help himself. The first touch of their lips ignites the wild in him, obliterating rational thought from his mind.

He parts soft lips with his tongue, dipping into the wet warmth of Jensen’s mouth. His hand slides along the short hairs on the back of Jensen’s neck, pressing him closer as the other hand settles at his waist.

He thinks of Jensen pinned up against the door with only Jared’s hands gripping his wrists, and the force of his thrusts holding him up. He entertains the thought of leaving Jensen on his own doorstep for his neighbours to find, a fucked-out effigy of pleasure.

Jensen pours moans like honey into his mouth, hesitantly cupping Jared’s jaw and drawing him closer. Jared just wants to consume every sound, every breath. He wants to have Jensen _now_ , instincts already taking over and sharpening the world into focus, driving him to fuck, _kill_.

 _Closer, closer, closer_ , demands the feverish-chanting in his head. He pushes until he has Jensen trapped against the door, lock rattling with the force of the impact. He’s all over Jensen, skin lit up with fire and Jensen’s clutching at him helplessly, hips making small abortive thrusts upwards.

It’s a shy flick of tongue against his that shocks Jared out of his frenzy, the gentle, inexperienced movement a reminder that he wants more than the spread of Jensen’s legs.

Breaking the kiss feels unnatural, like pulling two attracting magnets apart, and Jensen makes it so difficult to be good, the way swollen pink lips follow Jared’s as he pulls away.

He breathes in deep, trying to ground himself, trying to ignore the scent of Jensen’s cologne and subtle arousal. It takes every ounce of control not to dive back in and bury his teeth in the curve of Jensen’s neck.

Jensen shuffles his feet, red with embarrassment and looking more than a little dazed. Poor boy probably thinks he took things too far, too fast.

If only he knew how far Jared would let him go, how far Jared would take him.

“I really like you,” Jensen suddenly blurts out, eyes widening in mortification a split-second later. The high school confession catches Jared across the chest like a well-placed kick, rattling something loose within him. It’s nothing he hasn’t been able to figure out on his own, but hearing it, hearing the vulnerability in Jensen’s voice –

\- Jared shudders. _His fool of a boy doesn’t realize how close he is to death_. Pressure is building behind his eyes with the effort it’s taking to hold himself back. He can’t stay much longer.

Carefully holding his breath, he presses a lingering kiss to Jensen’s heated cheek. “And I’m terribly fond of you, Jensen Ackles.”

0-0-0

Weeks pass by, and the blissful boyfriends act stretches Jared’s control cheesecloth-thin, his desire seeping through the growing gaps while holding the bulk of him at bay. He slips, sometimes, but Jensen takes it as a progression of their relationship, happily encouraging Jared’s increasingly rough embraces, and the dark purple marks that Jared leaves with sharp teeth.

Jared’s yet to sleep with him, but his reasons to restrain himself are slipping away, thinning out in the wake of the growing need that calls for release – that demands death.

He meets Jensen’s friends at the bar where they’re playing for the night. Chris and Steve are friendly enough, but their eyebrows disappear into their hairlines when Jensen introduces him. He’s not sure if their surprise is due to his lack of breasts, or his sheer size. They hold off on giving him their blessing; Chris in particular looks at him with suspicion, watching him out of the corner of his eye, like Jared is something that is stalked, rather than the stalker. Well. The man isn’t his type, but Jared desperately needs a kill and _soon_. Perhaps Chris will give him a reason.

There’s a vibration in the air somewhere off to his right, like a thread being plucked, and Jared ignores Chris’ dad-with-a-shotgun posturing to look over his shoulder.

His vision stains scarlet, and he’s shaking as rage overflows, burying the little patience he had.

Jensen is being pressed into the bar by some _dead_ (soon, _soon_ ) meathead that evolution must have skipped over. The man’s arms bracket Jensen’s hips, closing in around him as Jensen leans back as far as possible, trying to get away but only succeeding in exposing the long line of his neck to the _dead, dead, dead_ fucker.

Distantly, it registers that Chris is looking at him strangely, but not a single part of him cares, not when there are somebody else’s hands on _his boy_. How dare they touch Jensen so freely, to leave their fingerprints on skin that Jared’s claimed as his?

“Come on now, just one kiss pretty boy –“

“ _Fuck off_ , buddy –“

“Is there a problem?” Jared practically growls, walking right up to the two of them and yanking the man off of Jensen one-handed. Mutilation was never his game, but he wants to chop the man’s hands off, burn every inch of skin that came into contact with Jensen’s.

“Jared,” Jensen says, fear from their first meeting resurfacing in his voice.  

“Hey dumbfuck, wanna let go of me?” Jared’s hand is still clenched tight in the back of the guy’s cheap dress shirt. The man’s one of those middle-aged, beer-bellied, used-to-be-jocks that never stopped believing they were God’s gift to the world. This one is particularly unintelligent, and a coward despite his alcohol-fuelled bravado. Jared’s seen the type. Probably came straight from the office, hoping to catch the interest of some young thing.

Well that was his mistake.

The instant he lets go of the man’s shirt, the guy is scurrying off, Jared silently tracking his escape out the bar door.

“You okay?” He wraps his arm around Jensen, pulling him in close and nuzzling at his neck. Jensen’s scent has been polluted by that disgusting man, vile sweat and body odour clinging to his boy and Jared’s fury reaches his breaking point, instincts crashing and filling up his head.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks,” Jensen says, then hesitating, “Are _you_ okay?”

Jared doesn’t answer, just hooks an arm around Jensen’s waist to bring their bodies flush together, and kisses Jensen hard – licking into his mouth with unrestrained hunger, the feeling of bloodlust rising to the surface and he pulls back to bite down on Jensen’s full bottom lip, lapping up the metallic taste of blood before twisting his tongue back inside. Jensen’s entire body jerks in his tight hold, moaning loudly at the stinging pain and earning them a catcall from the other side of the room.

“ _Mine.”_

The entirety of Jared’s frenzy is at the surface, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the room visibly darkened with the lethal intent he’s focusing on Jensen now. _Finally._

Jensen sags against him when Jared breaks the kiss, panting and gasping for air. Jared can feel Jensen’s erection against his thigh, hot and hard like a brand. He leans in, biting at the upper curve of Jensen’s ear, licking it once. His voice pitched low and feral. “Say good-bye to your friends, Jensen.”

0-0-0

Jensen meets Jared at his car, and they’re 20mph above the speed limit all the way to Jared’s house.

They leave a path of destruction in their wake – overturned end table, fallen picture frames, and haphazardly strewn clothes all along the main hallway and into his bedroom. Jensen pushes away, shy grin turning wicked the longer Jared’s eyes devour him – his innocent boy is unrecognizable, a mischievous and exquisite creature as he strips, revealing acres of freckled skin.

All of him, all for Jared.

The time it takes for Jared to rid himself of his clothes and to finally, _finally_ get his hands on Jensen is a short eternity. It’s an addicting high, the feel of endlessly smooth skin against his and the scorching heat of their erections pressed together. It nearly short-circuits his brain, _God_ , feeding into his frenzy like nothing he’s known before. He guides Jensen down to the bed, licking and nipping everywhere his mouth can reach. The damned man’s scent is almost gone now, replaced with Jared’s wild smell – but it’s not enough, not nearly enough, and he starts sucking bruises into the flesh beneath his teeth, massaging his saliva into the reddened patches as Jensen squirms and begs.

He has enough human left in him to remember the lube, uncapping of the bottle from the nightstand as he coats his hand liberally before reaching between Jensen’s legs, and finding Jensen’s small, exposed entrance. The ring of muscle flutters under his touch, impatience getting the best of him as he immediately sinks a slick finger into the furled opening.

“Ah!” Jensen yells before he sinks back and groans. Jared’s too lost in the heat and tight and _first_ to pay much attention, and soon it’s two, then three fingers twisting inside and loosening the muscle.

He’s been unbearably hard since they left the bar, wild need surging up inside him as he slicks himself up with quick strokes, aligning himself and pushing right in. Jensen sobs at the intrusion, mouth working as his entire body tenses beneath Jared. His boy – oh his boy is _perfect_.

White sparks across his vision as Jared forces himself deeper - he’s relentless their first time, taking and taking and taking until Jensen’s screaming beneath him, legs wrapped around his waist and hands clawing for purchase every time Jared slams into his prostate.  

It’s fast and filthy and neither of them last long, Jensen yelling into Jared’s mouth as he comes, and Jared follows, spilling into the impossibly tight heat, marking Jensen deep inside.

Jensen falls back limply onto the bed, come leaking out of his entrance as Jared slips out.

Lust is still a low thrum within his veins, but it allows him some clarity to work. He starts a path along the length of Jensen’s outstretched arm, starts biting with _intent_ , letting hidden fangs scrape all along the sensitive skin of his inner elbow, licking along the pulse of his wrist.

“Wh-what’s happening…?”

“Shhh,” Jared hushes and Jensen visibly starts to relax as the venom enters his system, limbs sinking onto the bed. It’s only a mild-paralytic, humans tend to metabolize it within minutes – but it serves Jared’s purpose. Unravelling the long, red fabric wrapped around the bedposts, Jared wraps the silk around Jensen’s slack wrist, soft and smooth as the delicate skin it covers. Red flows through his fingers as he weaves and threads, kissing along the rest of Jensen’s other arm as he fastens each wrist to the bedposts.

He kisses down his legs next, wrapping the silk around Jensen’s ankles. There are hooks and rings attached to the ceiling, and Jared takes a moment to loop the ends of the threads into the ceiling rings, lifting Jensen’s legs up, keeping them suspended in a vertical spread, perfect for Jared to crawl between.

By the time he’s done, Jensen is bound in an open sprawl across the bed, body slowly regaining its full strength as he starts to pull at each of the binds. He’s beautiful, caught in Jared’s web, delectably laid out for Jared to devour.

“Jared?” Jensen asks, a little groggily. Jared just smiles, taking Jensen’s cock in hand and stroking fast, tightening his grip as he passes over the head. Jensen may not have full faculty of his limbs yet, but Jared knows he feels _everything_ , and he revels in the weak cries falling from Jensen’s mouth.

“Jared – oh _God_ , ah please, please,” Jensen starts to beg, as Jared settles between the open ‘V’ of his legs, relentless in his strokes. Jensen is leaking all over his hand, and he can tell he’s at the edge when all of the muscles in Jensen’s abdomen seem to contract at once. It’s at that moment Jared lets go, smirking when Jensen writhes in frustration.

Jensen feels just as perfect the second time Jared thrusts in. He holds Jensen’s suspended calves, loving the way the muscles beneath the skin twitch, the way Jensen’s toes flex helplessly with every push of his cock.

“More, harder,” Jensen pleads, and Jared speeds his thrusts, Jensen grunting breathy _unh-unh-unhs_ with each push, struggling against the binds and pulling them taut in his desperation.

Jared’s orgasm builds differently this time, pleasure gathering at his core, but there’s a pressure in the back of his mind, calling for him to _kill_. He tries to stave it off, not wanting this to end, wanting Jensen, _his beautiful, beautiful boy_ , beneath him forever but the pleasure spikes when Jensen unexpectedly clenches around him, sending Jared tumbling off the edge, vision whiting out for a few blissful moments as he collapses onto Jensen.

His hands are around Jensen’s neck when he comes to, and for a second Jared thinks he actually did it, actually killed his Jensen – but then he sees Jensen's chest move, breathing deep and exhausted. Jared’s palpable relief settles in his chest.

Without the accompanying pleasure, the pressure in his head is even greater, more urgent, and his indolent satisfaction making his control slippery, and he has to wrestle it down. “Jensen,” he whispers heart-heavy, pressure breaking apart his restraint. He kisses slack lips because he was close, so close. There’s no response, and that’s probably for the best.

0-0-0

His bare footsteps are inaudible in the garage, stepping up next to the trunk and popping it open.

Terrified eyes look up at him, the man from the bar fully awake and screaming through his gag and thrashing in his binds. This man touched Jensen, forced himself upon him like he had any _right._ Jared gets his hands around his fleshy neck, pressing down hard into his wind pipe, throat convulsing and soon, the screaming stops.

It’s a revelation. As the pressure inside of him eases, contentment filtering in from all angles, Jared thinks of Jensen, fucked-out and sleeping quietly upstairs. He thinks of how men easily flock to him, try to touch what belongs to Jared. He thinks of how satisfying it would be to eliminate them.

Jared smiles. He and Jensen may work out after all.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Thank you to OP for the awesome prompt :) and thank you so much everyone - first, for giving _were-spider_ a chance and second, for all of your kind words and comments at the masquerade! The response was overwhelmingly supportive and it made me so happy  <3


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